Demon of the Black Gate

Rovinkar had sat for a long time, staring in a blank gaze out to the plain and desert from the outcropping overlooking the gap. And beyond. He could not help but be mesmerized by the destructions aftermath, watching the scattered fiery remains of the Imperial camp like one would gaze upon a dying campfire. He watched it with abstract idleness, troubled and puzzled by the failure of the spell to hold and imprison the demon. He was also contemplating his next move with the Chancellor, for he would not take this setback lightly.

Later, as he rode south to the Vale of the Houri, it occurred to him that the watch-fires may have been a distraction to the demon. The fickle nature of fire. So tricky to control. Chenli was another fire, and just as fickle. The solution to how he could turn this to advantage with the Chenli came to him as he rode, so that by the time he reached the Vale, he was feeling confident.

The Vale of the Houri was an shallow rift in the narrow neck of the Assai Desert that extended above the Sultan Sea. The cut lay like the tear of a giant talon on the sandy rock. The rent in the deserts surface had opened a spring, a vent of the underground river that sluiced waters from the Camelbacks to run beneath the sands and into the Sultan Sea. It was a long two days ride from the river bridge to the oasis, and yet the same to the fertile valleys in the south. A clan of nomads, some say a clan shriven from the horsemen of the plains, had long ago set claim to the oasis and gathered tribute from all the caravaners that passed. The head of the clan had more of a head for business than taxation, and quickly put the proceeds into the profits of food and drink and the pleasures of women. The law of the Empire was ignored here, the inherent ruler of Houri claimed neutrality to court and king. Traders and spies held court with immunity and the pleasures were open to all who could afford them.

Rovinkar reached the Vale in late afternoon, hot and dusty. Palms surrounded the vale, and grew in thick clumps among the marbled palaces that had cropped up around the southern end of the large oasis. He rode past the corrals that normally were packed with the cartage beasts of the caravans. The road to the Stands had all but been closed with the destruction of the gate, and now only a few animals stood in the pens. He reached the open patios marking the edge of the residences, and left his horse with an eager attendant. The shade of the manicured trees was welcome as was the fountains and pools that added their coolness to the hot desert air. In another season or another time, guests would be entertained with lavish attention by servants and dancers. As there were few animals in the stocks, so too were there few clients occupying the inns and establishments. Some of the waiting women were evident, dressed in tissue thin cloth, a few eyeing him with curiousity or anticipation. Rovinkar wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the cooling pools and the ministrations of the attendants. It would have to wait. Chenli would be at Alcaza Desert Moon.

The Alcaza had been erected on a tongue of red desert stone that extended into the oasis lake. In building the structure, the land had been scaped to nearly moat the palace into its own little island. Even in a playground for the wealthy, there is always another level of exclusiveness to aspire for, and the Alcaza Desert Moon stood apart.

A thin, soft-eyed man dressed in immaculate white pyjams greeted him at the pillared entrance. Although all knew that the Houri was nearly vacant of travelers, the hosteler made a great show of checking the availability of his rooms.

“You are most fortunate.” he said. “The Suite of the Oiled Lotus is just now available.”

“I am not particular.” Rovinkar said, looking around the cool marbled room. “Any chambers will do. I won’t be staying long. I shall need you to inform the Chancellor of my arrival. I will dine in my rooms. And arrange a manservant to assist me with my bath.”

“Of course, sire.” the man bowing backward, snapping his fingers. A bell rang.

“Racife here will show you to your suite and avail himself of your every need.”

Rovinkar looked at the young lad that entered, a handsome slave, naked save a small white silk cloth wrapped about his waist. He was well formed judging by the drape of his skirt. For the moment Rovinkar had no taste for the distraction of women. A soak and a rub down would be refreshing enough, and he doubted Chenli would allow for a longer dalliance. Later he would have a woman sent to his bed.

Rovinkar was correct. No sooner had he finished sluicing the dust from his body and had relaxed under the ministrations of Racife’s expert massage, than a knock came at his door. He reluctantly rose, and sipped from a glass of wine while walking to the door, washing the salty taste from his mouth. Racife handed him a light robe. He opened the polished mahogany door, sculpted with a frieze of nymphs, and as Rovinkar expected, an officer in the black and silver mufti of Chenli’s guard stood there, his face noncommittal. No words were necessary, the guard was meant as an escort. Rovinkar set down his wine, sashed his robe and followed.

Chenli had appropriated the finest set of rooms in the Alcaza. If Chenli had been entertaining, there was no sign of it as Rovinkar was guided through the suite and out to a veranda overlooking the oasis. Chenli was seated, and did not get up. No wine nor grapes nor sweetmeats lay tabled for refreshment. Rovinkar did not expect a casual conversation filled with small talk.

Chenli stared out at the waters of the oasis until the guard had left.

“What by the balls of Nepis happened to my army?” Chenli demanded.

“A slight setback, Chancellor.” Rovinkar said smoothly. “But this will work to our advantage.”

“How?” snarled Chenli. “There is no army, and no fouling path to advance.”

“Well, for one, our brave armies have been attacked most severely. The news will incite a further rash of patriotic fervor. Have the Aramites vilify the Standish pagan practices as well. Put the favor of our gods in its rightful place and you will have no problem finding recruits to fill the lost commissions. They must be re-armed of course, and mobilized. Your guilds will benefit greatly.”

“Of course they will, or I’d have had you gutted long ago.” Chenli got up and stood at Rovinkar’s face. “I want you to tell me that there will be a reason to send another command to that fouling hell gate. Tell me!”

“I admit I underestimated the demon.” Rovinkar replied, moving aside as if to acknowledge the view, keeping his temper casual. Serenity would serve him better in assuaging the Chancellor’s anger and adding credence to his ability.

“Without going into particulars,” he continued, “I just need stronger tactics, and I have the means to accomplish them. Assemble your new army, Chancellor. By the time they are trained, the Gate will opened.”

Again, Rovinkar spoke with much more confidence than he felt. He was sure that with a little more intention and strength the demon could be corralled. Fire had been too capricious and weak, too destructive. Earth was solid, but took ages to get results. There would be no hope there. It was the air that would retire the demon to its cage.

“You know, I don’t believe you.” Chenli fumed. “But I have nothing to lose by going ahead. Forgive me ... “ he added with a snarled sarcasm, “... if I don’t station my army anywhere close to your next attempt.”

“You will not be dis …” Rovinkar began, but Chenli waved him silent.

“Speak of your grand successes when the Gate is open to my army. I am returning to the imperial city. There is no army to command here.”

He rang a small bell to signal an escort. The interview was done.

Rovinkar felt a great wave of relief pass over him once the door to his own chambers was shut behind him. Racife lolled with lazy nakedness by the small adjacent pool. Rovinkar was tempted, for the lad was skilled. He needed a more intense diversion before he tackled the problem of the demon. He picked up the short wrap that still lay on the tiled floor like a puddle of white, and tossed it to the manservant.

“Come back with a woman that has an eager taste for men and knows how to submit with grace. And have some food sent in. I am hungry.”